I have always wanted to live in an old house with history (although I draw the line at ghosts.) I also wanted said house to have lots of “junk” in the attic, the closets, the garden sheds. I picture myself going through all the “junk,” which would really be little treasures along the way. All with a history. All now . . . mine.
I know. I am dangerously close to the sin of selfishness. Or perhaps materialism?
But I digress.
(You should chuckle at this point. I know I am.)
I recently discovered several Facebook pages devoted to old dishes. My passion for old dishes is only slightly less than for old houses. However, I can collect the dishes. It’s a bit hard to collect old houses.
Apparently, milk glass is quite a collector’s item these days. People on the Facebook page post their collections and their purchases. I made a mental note to pay closer attention at garage sales and the local Goodwill store since I have always liked those sorts of things.
And then, I was waiting on the washing machine to finish a load, and I was standing in the hallway, and I looked up . . .
and I gasped!
On the shelf was a milk glass vase.
I screamed. I shoved an ugly green vase out of the way. I ran around the house with my treasure.
(Well, sort of. I don’t run anywhere these days.)
I had apparently paid $1 for it, although I cannot remember when I purchased it. A quick google search reveals it to be a teardrop vase made of milk glass. It is considered “vintage 1970s.”
Since I was born in the 60s, I am not certain what that makes me. Since I like old things, I wonder if perhaps it makes me double-vintage?
Or maybe just – double trouble?